


Bound to Dream

by glitterpile, rainysora



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: BDSM, CBT, Dom!Yuuri, Fanart, Fluff and Smut, Illustrations, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shibari, shibari zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 10:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20692400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterpile/pseuds/glitterpile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainysora/pseuds/rainysora
Summary: Yuuri leans in and tries to kiss him softly, guiding Viktor’s face down with one hand on his cheek, but he can’t help himself: it feels like a magnet is drawing them together and the closer they are, the closer he wants to be. He presses against Viktor’s lips again and again, his hand almost subconsciously shifting to clutch that silky hair, and as much as Viktor is responding to him and matching him kiss for kiss, he stays so soft, so yielding. It feels like he could do anything with Viktor right now, and oh, isn’t that just the thing to make him giddy.





	Bound to Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely self-indulgent kink, and I am so so honoured that it interested Sora enough to join in on the action. I have been in love with her art for this work for MONTHS and now everyone gets to see it! The Rope Burn project was such a lovely one to participate in, so I hope you all enjoy the things we made.
> 
> By the way, the art _should_ auto-scale with the width of your device, so if it's a bit big for you just make your browser a little narrower ;D

Sinking to his knees, Yuuri lowers himself to where Viktor already is on the floor. He already looks so soft and lovely, his wrists together behind his back, the tight fibres he just finished twisting across Viktor’s chest digging in just that little gorgeous bit. Yuuri moves forward, closer, until he can make out each of Viktor’s silver eyelashes again, until he can see the tiniest parting of Viktor’s lips on each exhale. His smile is so gentle, loving, that it’s impossible to believe that Viktor is anything but thrilled with where he is right now. 

Yuuri leans in and tries to kiss him softly, guiding Viktor’s face down with one hand on his cheek, but he can’t help himself: it feels like a magnet is drawing them together and the closer they are, the closer he wants to be. He presses against Viktor’s lips again and again, his hand almost subconsciously shifting to clutch that silky hair, and as much as Viktor is responding to him and matching him kiss for kiss, he stays so soft, so yielding. It feels like he could do anything with Viktor right now, and oh, isn’t that just the thing to make him giddy.

His other hand drops down Viktor’s chest, pressing into each rough twist of rope across its path, across the yielding flesh until he reaches his erection. It seems silly, at this point in their relationship, to worry that Viktor might not be turned on by this; but somehow Yuuri finds himself kissing more passionately still as he curls his hand around Viktor’s desire and delights in its thick heaviness. This is what he’s here for, this is what makes him pull back and watch Viktor’s eyes softly flutter open after their connection breaks, and that slowly spreading smile comes back. Yuuri sits down more comfortably as he reaches behind himself for the next coil of rope. 

The rope is dark, and soft, and thinner than the first that’s wrapped around Viktor’s torso. It’s almost more of a cord, and it hangs loose and slinky from Yuuri’s hands as he draws the first loop around the base of Viktor’s cock and balls, and then another. He tightens it, slowly, carefully, fingers spreading the delicate skin creases, and yet the quiet hitching of Viktor’s breath is still noticeable in the velvet silence. Yuuri looks up at Viktor, one hand curled possessively (protectively) around his testicles, “Alright?”

Viktor instantly smiles at him in soft reassurance. “Yeah. Is that all of it?”

“Nope,” Yuuri quips, tugging the strand a tiny bit firmer for emphasis. Not even close. He draws it up the midline, as short as it will go, and wraps it over and around until the balls are standing out, all taut and shiny and compressed. He can’t resist running his hands over the suddenly smooth skin, to test the firmness under his fingers, to grasp and fiddle and delight in the way the texture of the rope digs in. 

It’s just so gorgeous, and thick, and both the close shave and the encircling rope make everything look twice as large. Yuuri swallows; he wants to fondle and lick and take advantage — but the tie isn’t done, and there’s still a bit to go. He wraps the rope up and then back down the shaft, secure diamonds criss-crossing over each other as Viktor’s cock visibly throbs from the sensations. The ends are just enough to tie off and tuck underneath, held snugly in place by the tension of the first wraps.

He keeps his fingers right there, cupping the slightly chill balls, savouring the moment as they fill his hand and Yuuri can’t resist a tiny squeeze, and then another. A quick glance up tells him that Viktor has already closed his eyes, brow ever so slightly furrowed — not overwhelmed, but just intent on feeling. Yuuri draws his hand up, squeezing, over the ropes texturing the shaft, the lightest twist over the head leaving moisture in his palm as he pulls it away. 

Yuuri stands; Viktor’s face turns to follow him up, as if drawn by a thread. Yuuri can see him settling into the feel of the position, and his eyes are so dark in the evening light. Years of growing up and looking up at Viktor’s image on the walls, he’s always imagined how much of a rapt worshipper he must have looked like, and now, to see it reflected to himself a hundredfold by that very same object of affection, it really is a wonder. 

Yuuri touches Viktor’s cheek, and Viktor leans right into his hand, falling into it heavily like a final resting place. His silver lashes flutter, and he’s not even waiting at this point — he’s simply there, and fully Yuuri’s, in that moment. There’s no mask, no veil of professionalism or strength or aloofness; it’s simply no more and no less than his Vitya, his gaze full of love. Like a growing flame, the mood shifts. It’s not enough to soak in Viktor’s expression like this; he wants to consume him. He wants-

He wants to see more. He shifts his weight back, and lifts a foot, roughly pressing it between Viktor’s knees and pushing against the bony edges until they shift apart, and more, and wider still. Now he can see — everything is on display, the fibres twisting dark against pale skin, muscles twitching as Viktor holds his balance. It takes barely a motion, and then his foot is right there as well, lifting the bound balls up, pushing on them from underneath. It makes Viktor’s eyes flick down for the briefest glance, before coming back up to Yuuri’s face, but it’s enough; the reminder of just how vulnerable and sensitive the binding makes him is a shared thought, a joining heat. Yuuri looks his fill, until he can’t wait any more.

“Up on the bed,” Yuuri indicates with a small tilt of his head. Viktor nods, willing, a quiet “yes, sir,” falling from his lips almost subconsciously. He rises carefully, turns to the bed and kneels onto it, testing his weight on the softness of the mattress, then shuffles forward on his knees. Yuuri can see him gripping his arms tightly behind his back as he’s about to turn back around, and licks his lips. Now, then, now would be the perfect time to take him by surprise.

Yuuri grabs the knotted ropes between Viktor’s shoulderblades — roughly, with a little twist to tighten them a smidge, the way he knows Viktor enjoys — and pushes him forward. He loves the feeling of bringing Viktor off-balance, the trust to let him do so, the sound of shoulders hitting sheets, the small grunt as he lands and then tries to adjust, and then settles. There’s a brief respite, a moment’s pause as he waits for another instruction, and Yuuri breaks it, grabbing hold of Viktor’s hips and dragging upwards towards himself, until Viktor frantically pushes down with his shoulders and knees to support himself. Yuuri runs his hand lovingly over the taut ass up in the air, and up Viktor’s spine, nudging until it drops, and there, there is that glorious curve, that obscene bend — Yuuri feels himself straining in his pants as he rewards Viktor with a firm grasp of his bound cock. Viktor’s sharp intake of breath transitions to a soft whine, as he’s clearly straining to hold himself still and not thrust into Yuuri’s hand, but his trembling gives him away. 

“Yuuri, I’m-”

“Hmm? You’re close already?” Yuuri pauses his movements barely three strokes in.

“On my dick, it feels so tight, it’s too good. Please…” Viktor sighs out, breathing raggedly into the bedspread his face is pressed into. 

Yuuri takes his time, then; as he keeps an eye on Viktor, still bound and positioned, he steps back, finally unzips his pants and pulls out his cock, instant relief coursing through him as he pulls on it. He could finish just like this, and maybe some other day he will — striping cum over Viktor’s upturned ass as he holds himself there, posed and needy — but today he wants to give him more, to have him feel surrounded and used and helpless in just the way Viktor has said he enjoys. 

He takes his time opening the condom packet and rolling it on; he takes his time squeezing out lube and coating himself thickly, thoroughly, as Viktor watches him from the corner of his lidded eyes, turned as much towards him as he can. Yuuri can see the impact of each crinkle, each squelch, each slide, all building the anticipation in his core just as much as he can see it in Viktor’s face. He lines up the head of his cock right there between Viktor’s cheeks and starts to guide it in. 

From the very first touch it’s heady and tight, and each minute motion feels so good and enticing that all he wants is more. It’s a familiar feeling by now — the gentle push, the hold, the wait for the resistance to lessen ever so slightly, the retreat. It feels like he’s gone so far on each next one — but really it’s barely even in, squeezing the glossy lubricant around as he lets Viktor relax and open up to him. Yuuri steadily feels his way in, hot millimetre by millimetre, and at last the sudden change from push to pull grabs him as the head slips past the ring and Viktor almost starts to greedily suck him in. Yuuri’s groan is yanked out of him, louder than he intends, to meet Viktor’s quiet inhale in the dim light. 

Yuuri bends forward, holding still as he presses desperate kisses to Viktor’s shoulders, to the supple ropes holding his arms tight. Each one sends his worship down into his love’s body, met each time with a shiver, a softening, or a delighted breath. He’s sure his grip must be slowly digging marks into Viktor’s hip, a thought that drives him to leave matching ones with his mouth onto the fair skin beneath him. Clean sweat and hair and rope wax linger in the air around him as his need builds from within, burning right where they are so tightly joined, and he has to fight to force it down, to hold off, until:

“Please, move, please,” Viktor chokes out, his sob half-muffled into the sheets as Yuuri lets go and obliges instantly with a small, relieving push. He’s torn between filling Viktor as much as he can, and pulling out to make him beg harder, so his movements stay small and careful. It’s a delicious, deep grind as he feels Viktor moving back to meet him, a silent plea for more that Yuuri would struggle to refuse at the best of times. He lets each roll of his hips build, each thrust steadily heavier with desire, giving Viktor as much as he can take. 

It’s quickly more than Yuuri can take: the sound of the sheets shifting with each push, the slick filthy noises as he snaps his hips in, and above it all the repeated begging gasps below him, the sure sign that Viktor has hit his limit of blinding pleasure. At this point Viktor would definitely have reached for his own cock by now — but he’s bound tight, and is completely at Yuuri’s mercy to end it all, and it’s that feeling that tips him over the edge, like a spring released, the tension pumping out. Eyes still shut, he grabs for Viktor, the entwining rope a burning contrast to the dripping velvet skin it encases, pulling firmly in time with the pulses of his own dick; and almost comes again, feeling how quickly Viktor clenches and falls apart beneath him, the barest touch sending him into ecstasy. 

It takes a few moments for Yuuri to start moving again, almost sluggishly, lethargically, as his breath slowly comes back to him; Viktor’s panting recedes slower than his own, barely heard over the blood pounding in his ears. His shirt peels off from where it’s stuck to Viktor’s back, leaving faint marks where it was rumpled and creased in, and catching Yuuri’s eye as he pulls out and wipes his hand on a tissue. Viktor’s eyes are still closed when he’s done cleaning up, his face bright red, hair mussed and sweaty, remains of drool shining on his lips: the very picture of joyfully drained, and ready to merge into a single mass with the bed. He’s softened enough that the rope around his dick is hanging loose, and it takes all of a few brief touches to slide the loops off the retreating skin. The knots at his back are next, and Yuuri doesn’t hold back to drop soft kisses across Viktor’s freckled shoulders as he pulls the next few turns apart by feel alone. Viktor groans in relief as his wrists come loose, dropping his arms limply by his sides, his mouth twisting into a sloppy smile as he slides down heavily into the satin sheets. 

Rope pushed to one side, Yuuri collapses next to Viktor, ready to run his hands over the coiling rope marks tracked into his skin, when he’s met with clingy hands and an insistent “Off, off,” that pushes him to sit up again. Removing his trousers and shirt is an ungainly scramble, and when he comes back to press his forehead against Viktor’s, his eyes are open, the softest blue you could ever find. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Mmm, lovely.” Viktor punctuates his statement with a slow, lingering kiss that makes Yuuri tingle all over. He wants to reply, but the desire to bring himself against Viktor’s soft lips is stronger, and that, for the moment, is more than enough to think about.

**Author's Note:**

> Hang out with us on [18+!!! on ICE](https://discord.gg/TYMxcAB) Discord if you'd like. And please don't forget to check out [Sora's twitter](https://twitter.com/rainysorarts) for all your delicious art following needs. <3


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